One last time black eyes met white. A king and his shadow.
“Go,” said the king.
And the shadow obeyed.
EPILOGUE
“CAPTAIN,” CALLED TOMMY, a hand up high in greeting as he and a couple others drew closer to where Killian stood at the warehouse entrance. Tommy was a young man, with dark curls and a crooked smile. He had a jagged scar cutting across his right cheek. “We’re off for the night. Want to join us in the tavern for a drink before you head home?”
Killian shook his head with a smile. “Not tonight, boys. I have something I need to take care of.”
“You say that every time.” Tommy clicked his tongue. “You’ve been here for months now, and you’ve neveronceactually come out with us. What?” He wiggled his fingers at Killian. ”Still not used to being around so many big, bad humans? You scared, Cap?”
“Terrified,” Killian said dryly. He kicked out playfully at the sturdy human. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used toyou.”
Tommy grinned and danced out of the way.
“Leave him be, Tommy.” Another guard, Ryland, took Tommy by the shoulders and shook him. “You’re a lousy drunk. I wouldn’t wanna go drinking with you, either—“
”Hey!”
”Another time, Captain,” said Ryland. “We’re holding you to that.”
”Alright,” agreed Killian, a bit shocked at their determination. He thought they’d give up after almost three months of empty promises, but every night came another invitation. Maybe—just maybe—he’d take them up on it someday soon. “Get out of here. Enjoy your night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
There was a round of farewells from the men. Tommy gave him an exaggerated salute and a wink.
Ryland rolled his eyes but raised two fingers to his brow. And then chuckled to himself like he was funny or something.
They didn’t do that here, salutes and bows and any other unnecessary pompous ceremonial shit, or so they called it. They weren’t formal at all, these men—these humans. They were the exact opposite of the elves Killian was used to overseeing. Loran would’ve lost his mind at the way they acted—the way they talked—especially to him, their captain. They were hard men, rough and a bit dirty, but they were good men. Strong men. Simple, country men. Killian could see himself calling them true friends someday.
Killian and Kade had settled in the human kingdom of Avaan, Netyere’s neighbor to the north. A dense and forested kingdom with high mountains and low valleys.
A four day ride from Ingara.
Kade had wanted to go further inland, away from the busy roads along the trade routes that connected the two kingdoms. He thought it’d be safer—and it would be—but Killian had argued it, saying that there were more opportunities for work in a city, and less prejudice or wariness of elves this close to the border.
That wasn’t the whole of it.
The truth was that Killian couldn’t stomach the idea of being too far from Netyere. From Ingara.
So, they settled on the outskirts of the small but bustling city of Tsur, a hub for travelers and traders and merchants. They purchased a bit of land and a cozy cottage nestled in a grove of trees.
Killian and Kade worked in the gardens together. Growing food and the herbs that Kade needed for his healing remedies.
It was a peaceful life. One Killian thought only existed in his dreams.
Life was good.
Life was easy.
Their human neighbors had been cautious of the pointy-eared newcomers at first, but with time they became warm and welcoming to the mated pair.
Kade quickly gained a reputation as a skilled healer, becoming the one that those in their vicinity called upon for help. He was well loved. The humans couldn’t help but be taken by him. By his smile and his quiet, kind charm. They doted on him though he was at least twice their age, bringing him gifts and desserts and pinching his cheeks like they do to their grandchildren.
It was cute the way Kade blushed at the affection, never quite knowing how to receive it. Neither of them had any experience with motherly love.
Killian found work with a local merchant who moved textiles and other goods over the border and throughout Avaan. He had started as a hired sword on one of their caravans across the kingdom. A mercenary. Just another nobody guard like anyone else, only a bit more…exotic. He had quickly been promoted after the merchant—Mr. Williams—saw his skill and the metal of his mind.
